Clean Criminal // l.s.

xxiv

[If anyone where to play Cris Harper, I'd hope it be Matt Bomer. Sorry for the short-ish chapter! -M]

When Harry dropped by Louis' after work to see what was for dinner, there was no answer. He had knocked several times, knowing that Louis always opened the door on the third knock because "three was a special number," he had always said. So, naturally Harry became worried.

Why wasn't Louis home? Louis was always home before five because dinner was at six-thirty and he always took around thirty minutes to prepare dinner and then an hour to cook it. If he wasn't home, then where was he?

Although Harry mostly like to look at things from a positive angle, he couldn't help but thing negatively. Louis could have been kidnapped and is now involved in the sex trade. Louis could have been killed and is now lying in the back of some dirty alley that's covered in rat feces. OR he could have been kidnapped, forced into the sex trade and then killed there!

Okay, so maybe some of Harry's hypotheses where a bit far-fetched, but they were still possible. Louis could be anywhere in New York and it was Harry's job to find him, dead or alive.

(Preferably alive.)

Harry called the only person he could really count on, only he wasn't picking up fast enough for Harry's liking,"alright, you son of a bitch, pick up the goddamn phone or so help me God I will shove my foot so far up your ass that you--"

"Hello?" a tired-sounding Cris had spoke, "what do you need, Styles?"

"Oh, thank God you're not dead either--wait, why do you sound so tired it's only six," Harry gasped, "ew, you weren't like sleeping with someone where you?"

Cris rolled his eyes at Harry's question and shifted uncomfortably in his bed, "what do you need again?"

"Ah, right, I can't focus on the fact that you were getting laid. Anyways, Louis' missing. He's gone. Like, he's not home," Harry rambled.

Cris sat up, "what's the big deal? He's probably out somewhere. Try calling him."

"Because I definitely didn't try calling him already," Harry said sarcastically, "he's always home at six because six-thirty is dinner time. He can't just miss dinner. That's not like him. It's..it'sunacceptable in his world."

"Okay, first of all, take some deep breaths, bro. You're sounding like Porky Pig right now and I can't understand a thing."

Harry listened to Cris and took a few deep breaths, "Louis' missing and that's all there is to it. Now, what do we do?"

"Whoa, whoa, we don't do anything. You call this in and the cops will find someone to go looking for him. We don't deal with missing persons."

"It takes forty-eight hours before they start looking for missing persons, by then, he could be dead, Cris! I'm a detective and so are you, we can do this on our own."

Cris ran his fingers threw his hair and looked over at his boyfriend. He wanted nothing more than to go for round two, but, let's face it, Harry was in trouble. The fact that Cris was Harry's first call meant something and Cris couldn't let him down now.

Cris got out of bed, giving his lovely boyfriend a soft kiss before leaving the room after picking up a t-shirt, "fine, come pick me up from my place. I'll try to see if there's any way of finding out where he last was."

.

When Harry drove up to the curb, Cris jumped in the passenger door and buckled up. "First of all," he started, "fuck you for always being a cock block. Secondly, you better bow at my feet because I was able to locate his cell which apparently isn't with him." Cris handed Harry his phone to get the address which he then entered into his GPS.

"This means we can look at the scene to see if there's anything that can lead us to where he is now," Harry concluded, pulling out into the street to drive to the location.

"Yeah, I know. You're welcome."

Harry glanced at Cris and smirked, "thank you, Crisy-poo."

"Suck a dick," Cris retorted, looking the other way.

"Can it be yours?" 

"Fucking perv."

Harry laughed, "seriously though, thanks so much for coming with me. I really need you, Cris." 

It was Cris' turn to laugh, "don't go all sappy on me now, Styles." 

"It's a little too late for that, now isn't it?" Harry spoke, "hey, see if you can find any thing related to his credit card or recent phone calls. We might be able to get somewhere off of that."

"You got it, boss," Cris said, saluting Harry.

"Turn left in fifty-feet," the GPS had commanded.

"Your wish is my command," Harry replied. He turned left and the GPS had said that his destination was on his right. He parked and both him and Cris got out. "An alley?"

"Seems like it," Cris answered, taking a look around. "Oh, here we go," he had picked up Louis phone using one of the latex gloves he always had on him.

"It looks like there was a struggle, the garbage is spilled everywhere. There's some foot prints, too."

Cris knelt down to get a better look at the prints, "looks like worker boots to me. A construction worker would wear something like these."

Harry thought about that statement. Louis doesn't know anyone in construction which means that it's a stranger, no wonder there was a struggle. Then Harry realized something which made him steam with anger. He knew who has Louis. The only problem was, he had no way of tracking him.

"Get in the car. I need you to run a cross reference of construction workers in the area who had been to The Pub in this last week. Look for costs of close to or over fifty-dollars," Harry said.

"What are you thinking, boss?" Cris questioned as he followed Harry back to the car.

"I think I know what drunk son of a bitch kidnapped Louis." Harry could only hope he was right.